Childbirth story (4/4): Relying entirely on the medical team

Childbirth story part 4 of 4

When you have just given birth, you are in a daze. I can sense the panic in the room, but it feels like I'm floating over it all. Doctor and resident take turns massaging my uterus in an attempt to convince it to contract. I was injected with oxytocin as a horse dose. They ask for my permission to inject other products into my thigh that I don't even remember the usefulness of. Thanks Epidural for sparing me the feeling of all that!

I am losing a lot of blood, we are trying to rebalance the volume of fluid in my veins via the 2 catheters that I already had in my arms.

The medication makes me vomit, even though I've eaten almost nothing all day.

The rapid maneuvers of the medical team succeed: the hemorrhage is stopped, the panic leaves the room.

There were lots of women at work that night. My doctor, who was already late for the arrival of another small being on Earth, let the resident sew me up. As for me, I am hungry, I have hypoglycemia (my glucose was taken away to inject me with other medications).

Chéri is coming back with baby #2. He has had it in his arms since birth, but in neo-nat, we did not want to leave him next to his brother: healthy babies are not admitted to intensive care. So darling, caught between the 2 babies, comes to see if I am able to take care of the latter.

I feel better, I ate, and since I want to breastfeed, it's time to put the baby to the breast. But what do I do for baby #1 who is far away from me? My legs are still missing from my brain's control, and they can't bring me onto my stretcher in a neo-nat... They take me back to my room to let me unfreeze.

In the bedroom, my heart is broken. I want to cuddle baby #2, but I really want to join my other son, to see him, to take him, to feed him. It's 22:00, my nurse finishes her shift in 1 hour, and her ultimate goal in this last hour is to complete her notes. No helping me go to the bathroom, get dressed or put in a wheelchair to drive me to the neonate, nenon: his notes, nothing else.

Chéri comes to see me, to give me news about the baby and to help me do what it takes to bring me to him.

At midnight, I finally managed to get to my son. He is plugged in everywhere, he has a catheter in his mini-hand to receive IV antibiotics, he has sensors on his mini tummy to track his heart rate and a saturometer on his mini-foot to monitor his blood oxygen level. However, by the time I got there, his CPAP that helped him breathe had already been removed, he is now able to do this task alone!

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